


The Fury

by LadyKG



Series: Sakura Time Travel [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Fix-It, Gen, Read that one first, Time Travel, flashbacks are confusing, read the author's note!!!, sakura is powerful, sequel to the sound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 13:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6957961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKG/pseuds/LadyKG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'The Sound'. She needs to keep moving, looking forward and fixing the problems of the past. If she doesn’t the world might just fall apart a second time. Sakura time travel AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Probable

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own Naruto (only saying this once.)
> 
> This is a sequel! The story it follows if 'The Sound' and can be found on my profile.
> 
> The writing style is the same. Flashbacks occur when the first three words are italicized and flashbacks can happen right after one another. There is no indication of when she goes back to the present.

"Stop that," her friend breaks her thoughts, "survivor's guilt doesn't suit you."

Ino is rising to her feet then, an elegance to her movements born from countless battles.

"Now, wake up, Fore-head," the blonde crosses her arms as if in annoyance but her features are soft, "it isn't your time."

Everything goes white.

White and hot, burning with a fury that made her voice ach to scream out in silence never heard as there was no one to listen. Bones creaked in her carcass of flesh and blood, vein and sinew stretching to burst like snapping whips recoiling after a strike meant to drag more liquid than information from the victim. The network of cells encased by brittle bone crying out for relief from the pain strangling her body.

The light cleared.

She was numb.

Sakura blinked lethargically against the thrum in her head that made keeping her eyes open hard. Breathing made her chest clench in unfelt soreness.

To her right she saw a window with curtains gently brushing the wall and the flutter of wings as birds flew on the other side of the glass. She wanted to sit up, the shinobi part of her yelling to prepare for a fight. The medic in her disagrees and contrasted that she was in no shape to do such a thing.

A choke left her throat and her arms moved slow to pull sloppily at the tube shoved down her esophagus. It felt strange to pull it out, and left her feeling crackly enough for her green eyes to seek out the glass of water most often placed by a patient's bed.

_Fingers fumbled against_ the slick surface of the glass trying to lift it against her chapped lips stained by the sands of Suna. Kakashi had just left her to relax for her last fleeting hours of hospital admittance.

She closed her eyes as the water rushed to moisten her parched organs, the coolness exemplifying the comfort.

Tsunade was there when she gave up on lifting the drink with weakened muscles. The woman standing tall and proud, with a knowing look sparkling in eyes so familiar. The green coat she favored worn proud with particles of dirt and red dressing it. The door to her room opened and Tsunade strode in with long steps, her white medical cloak flapping in streams behind her, stethoscope hanging over her shoulders and framing her ample breasts.

Her Tsunade studied the new entry, eyes distant and a frown so small it was barely there.

Sakura watched with bleary vision as the woman froze with realization at her status of wakefulness. No doubt shocked, before worry and anger boiled to the surface at noticing the tube no longer slithering down her patient's throat.

The lack of forced oxygen may explain the sudden dizziness and strange struggle her abdomen seemed to be in.

The last this she saw as the darkness stole her sight was two Tsunade looking down over her, one with annoyance and the other with a worried fondness and aged political eyes.

_Ripples of pale_ hair fluttered against the absent wind as their Godaime leapt back from attack after attack. Their enemy fierce and hidden amongst the dust kissing the sky.

A strange look glinted in her leader's eyes that brought attention to them instead of the dried blood and caked mud sticking to her form. The woman turned her head, a dark pattern of seals spilling from her forehead, her gaze flitting over each ANBU member present and then the civilians struggling to safety.

The fight is going into its twentieth minute and Sakura has yet to see a proper opening to interfere. Neither has the slug princess given the signal to move in.

With that gaze now, the pinket believed, the Godaime would call them to arms in aid.

She didn't.

"GET THEM _OUT_ OF HERE!" The yell of her teacher sent shinobi scrambling to comply, her seal was released and pumping chakra into limbs, organs, cells. She was their last line of defense as the civilians were taken away – Naruto too far off to be of service, taking on his own formidable opponents. Sakura saw a wave of silken straw-blonde locks, cut loose from their ties with a near hit. She knew that the seal wouldn't last much longer, has seen her shishou fight enough to make an accurate estimation.

There was the splatter of blood, warm and thick against a porcelain mask, as green eyes watched through the carved holes.

Sakura froze for all of a breath before she was moving forward, rushing on tired legs and ignoring the desperate cry of denial wanting to escape her mouth. Skidding to a stop by her shishou's prone form, while her team engaged the enemy for a distraction, the medic pumped green chakra to wounds never to be healed.

A cough and another splatter of blood came with the sound of laughter. Green eyes shot to look at the Senju's pale face, the seal slowly reseeding as its last strands of chakra were drained. Dull eyes lazily scanned her masked face and Sakura felt her heart stutter at the look of adoration shining through them.

The woman's hand lifted to hers.

_A bottle of_ sake was shoved into her slim fingers, the container smooth to the touch and still obviously full as the liquid sloshed from the movement.

Looking from the object in her hands to get shishou Sakura opened her mouth to question the purpose of such actions when the blonde held up a hand to silence her.

"I'm going to teach you how to drink."

The blackness came then, an overwhelming pressure sticking to her and dragging at the skin of her flesh. Weighing down her eye lids with iron in her blood and steel in her bones. A fire burned her heart, leaving cinders to fill decaying lungs.

The dark pulls back a countless time later as sunlight, blinding, spins webs around her eyes in an indecipherable pattern of shapes. A code of networks meant to puzzle her back to a reality she isn't sure truly exists. One with blonde hair and smiles, masks and orange goggles.

The fibers of light demand her to pull immovable lids from pained eyes to see if her hope is even a probability.

When they move, a small amount, the bleary vision of blonde a shade too dark and red-almost-blood is made evident. A flash of blue that belongs to the sky and heavens, a pair of chakra signatures whispering to her senses so similar to one she knows so well.

One she wishes she could feel again.

The darkness comes back then, before she can reach out to meet the warm greeting with her own chakra. It comes and consumes her senses blocking out the light and sunflowers dancing along the tips of her lashes.

The same darkness that took away her friends.

_Liquid, thickly scented,_ splattered haphazardly against the counter as Naruto shoveled ramen into his mouth with gusto. But Sakura could not bring herself to care, the smile and sparkle present in blue eyes more than enough compensation for the mess he created. Kakashi was perched next to her, his typical book held for the world to see. The wooden chopsticks in her hands clacked lightly as they settled to rest.

"Thanks, Sakura-chan," the blonde muffled around a mouthful of noodles.

"Next time we're getting something healthier," is all she offered in return.

"But Sakura-"

"No 'buts'!" She held her nose high and sniffed, "you promised!" The pinket eyed her companion in speculation, "are you going back on your promise?"

Naruto looked at her in horror, strings of noodles hanging from between his lips as his eyes went wide with disbelief.

_"It's the promise_ of a lifetime!" The blonde boy gave a close-eyed smile and thumbs up. Backpack held in one hand as the rest of the Sasuke-retrieval team moved towards the woods. Sakura gave a weak smile and nod in return, watching them leave till she could see them no longer and even then. A clench of hope in her heart and a prayer on her tongue.

The room is strange, she thinks, there is no light yet as the darkness winds the memories away she can see herself clearly as if the entire world were lit up.

The darkness doesn't drag anymore, she feels light much like when she had faced Ino in such a similar place. Perhaps she has finally hit the bottom of the abys that swallowed her when her eyes lost sight of the sunshine hair and sky-blue eyes.

The soft sound of a brush spreading ink over a scroll draws her attention to the right, a pale figure, just as well-lit as herself, sits cross-legged there holding a soft bristled instrument in his long fingers expertly.

"Sai," she breathes his name out, a hundred and one questions in that word.

"Ugly," he looks up at her with a fake smile that is not as fake as it used to be.

She doesn't say anything after that, simply watches him in silence that is more serene than suffocating.

She didn't ask what he was painting, didn't feel the need. It felt so much like it used to, and if she closed her eyes and focused on the sound of her friend then the dark world would crumble to give way to her home.

The slick feeling of water rushing over her raised the hairs on the back of her neck. And she watched with rapt attention as Sai sunk into the black darkness but her own body remained bright. The walls - for she has no other name to call them - ripped like flesh being pulled apart at its seams. Streaming bright particles of white into the empty black filled the space with a cool warmth she found less comfort in than she probably should.

Her eyes blinked open and there was no longer a tube down her throat, scratching at her insides, but a mask secured to her mouth and nose to aid her worn body in staying alive.

Her limbs were heavy and sluggish in their movements, eyes watering against the contrast of sterile light.

There was a hand on hers, she could feel the soft touch of another and it made her feel anchored in this world long enough to take more than a passing glance.

Moving tired green eyes to look at the body resting its head on the bed she discovered a mop of black hair framing orange goggles, deep blue clothes and a childish face.

_The man shoved_ his already bloodied hands into the chest of a fresh graduate – ' _chunin'_ she had to remind herself, _'they are chunin because of this war'_ – a deeply satisfied look on his scarred face.

"And you call me a monster?" He laughs manically, the laugh of a broken mind, "when you are the ones sending children to war?"

A sick feeling rises in the back of her throat because she knows, in a sense, the man is correct – they are sending out academy students barely able to throw a kunai straight to take on missions, to serve as aid on the field of battle.

Against the caliber of shinobi they face these children might as well be civilians – nothing but cannon fodder in the end.

_"Why don't you just give up?"_ Obito smiles at her showing too much teeth; a predator about to traps its prey, "with Naruto-chan dead how can you win?"

Anger, hot and fast, boils in her veins and coils, bursting forth in a punch that shakes the very heavens with its strength, "you have no right," she grinds out between her teeth, "no right to say his name!"

_The man – no_ the monster, psychopath, inhumane being – looks surprised when he finally succumbs to the call of death. His mouth rounded in a small _'oh',_ eyes distantly wide and starting to glass over before the body even hits the ground.

A hand, smaller, is squeezing hers and Sakura blinks to find teary eyes staring back at her. A smile stretching into a toothy grin, and another hand coming up to try and rid wet cheeks of their moister.

"Sakura, you're awake!" His voice is loud and boisterous, happy with a light quality that she is sure hasn't been there for however long her body rested with the way his voice cracks slightly. She squeezes his hand back in reassurance. A smile spreads her lips at the sight of him, small but true.

She reaches out, painfully slow, and ruffles his hair with weak fingers.

"I'll go get Minato-sensei and everyone," he says brightly, bouncing up from his seat, but she tugs the best she can on the hand still in her grasp and with a small shake of her head she denies the statement. She won't be awake long enough for the boy to find everyone and return – she can feel it in her bones.

He frowns but seems to understand as he settles again in the uncomfortable looking chair pulled to rest by her bedside.

He fidgets in his seat, not looking at her but down at his lap and the clenched fist resting in it, she wants to tell him to ask his question but the mask on her face would make such an action difficult and moving her arm to take it off would be tiring. So she waits, patiently, for the boy to speak his mind.

"Sakura," it would seem she didn't have to wait long, and so she turns expectant eyes on dark ones, "I," he twitches further, pausing before shutting his eyes and ducking his head, "thankyouforsavingme!"

The words are jumbled and it takes her a moment to process them. A laugh catches in her throat when one eye peaks open to look at her for a reaction, the smile on her lips from before spreading wider.

Moving her arm to grab hold of the oxygen mask is more than worth the words she wants to speak in that moment, "we can't have our," she struggles after a mere four, angering her for how weak she is, "future Hokage dying so soon, can we?"

The darkness fell against her mind then, dragging her down once more – only it wasn't as far a fall as before - leaving her with the sight of wide dark eyes tearing up with so much hope that she thinks they could have been blue.

_"I'm going to_ be Hokage one day! Dattebayo!" Naruto exclaimed loudly, a proud and determined smile on his face – one Sakura hated for all its worth; how could this boy smile so bright when her Sasuke-kun simply stared blankly into his own grief. It wasn't right.

_A thousand-watt smile_ met her tired eyes as she stretched to loosen her limbs after a restless night. The air was cool and sky clouded, yet the presence of one Uzumaki Naruto made it seem like the sun was shining with the intensity of one of Konohagakure's summers. His smile uplifting to all those who saw it and something she cherished every second it made itself known.

Sitting up in her bed was a struggle she never wanted to go through again – one she refused to admit left her winded and chest aching as stitches still not healed pulled at her torn and tender flesh. But that was all relative to the feeling of a child clinging desperately to her, with little hands twisting into the fabric of her robes.

The lullaby fell from her lips softly as she tried to rock the sobbing boy into a peaceful sleep, "nen-nen yo okororiyo suya-suya to oyasuminasai,

"nen-nen yo okororiyo yasashi hito ni sodachimasu you ni,

"kami-sama arigatou, enjeru mo arigatou,

"nen-nen yo okororiyo mama no mune de oyasuminasai,"

The shivering of small limbs ceased as did the sound of wet sobs, soon all that was left was a subtle rise and fall of a small chest. It left her heart aching and a sad smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. Guilt tugged at her emotions.

"I had no idea Yamato was so cute as a child," Ino said blinking down in wonder at the bundle, her hair pulled back as she perched daintily on the edge of the bed, Sai to her side with a hand on the blonde's shoulder.

Sakura's smile turned warm and eyes soft at the words, a hum of agreement had the blonde reaching out to run fingers through brown locks even as the hairs didn't move from the touch.

The darkness was coming again, this time it was shallow as a puddle, floating her on a small plane of water where the light was but a reach away should she have the energy to grab it.

She lost count of how many times she woke up till she as released; she was under for almost two weeks – a time that many medics were baffled about. But her chakra healed her automatically now in her sleep when she was gravely injured, something she needed to do since she became the only reliable medic with enough skill to save a large number of shinobi during the war.

Now that she was released she had much to do and so little time to commit all the acts required of her to save this world even more.

Madara – dead.

Zetsu – dead, sealed.

Obito – saved, alive.

But the Amegakure is still in trouble, under attack by Hanzo and Root members that have yet to receive news of Danzo's demise, or perhaps believe they must fulfill their mission in his honor as some twisted sense of loyalty. Yahiko will perish and Nagato will lose hope for peace without bloodshed.

Sakura couldn't let that come to pass. Nagato is an Uzumaki, after all, and that make him Naruto's family. And Naruto's family is something she will always fight to protect.

Which is how she finds herself standing before the Hokage after she had escorted her beloved Yamato to his academy classes. Her face was resolute and a burning determination lit her eyes and chest. The ANBU present were sent away at her request.

She was in full gear, prepared for a mission that could last months; she knew she had just returned properly. Just left the hospital, but the world waited for no one – it kept spinning even as the bodies piled up, even as she begged for more time.

"Sakura," the Sandaime pulled his aging pipe from his mouth, a puff of smoke filling the office, "what can I do for you?"

"I'm going to Ame."

The man blinks at her, a puzzled look in his eyes, "may I ask as to why you've made this sudden decision?"

She slips the mask from her belt and places it against her face, "there is something I need to fix there."

The Hokage leans back with a long sigh, eyes closed to world for a moment as the words are processed – she has told him everything, though perhaps leaving out the whole history of how the Akatsuki were formed wasn't the best idea.

"You were just released from a two week long say at the hospital," he says with wariness, "wait for a while before going off on another mission."

She shakes her head, she needs to aid Akatsuki in taking down Hanzo – a strange thought to her as they were a main enemy in the war.

"They were a key part of the war," she reasons, "saving them will help bring peace to Amegakure, and Konoha could gain another ally."

She knew that the thought of more villages on their side was an enticing one, with the war wrapping to an end on their side the only treaties they will have would be made out of fear with simmering hate that will fester and grow. Having one made based on aid and a true gratefulness would strengthen both villages exponentially.

Will bring the world closure to a sense of peace.

Hiruzen leans forward once more, a calculating look in his eye and she thinks for a split second that she has him, that she won and will be able to leave with a quick stop at Kushina's to request she pick up Yamato after his classes.

"Sakura," his voice his steady, but soft, confusing her, "I think you should start seeing Inoichi."

The words strike and she looks through the slits in her mask with bewilderment.

"Don't take this as an insult to your competence in the field," the Hokage sooths, "I simply believe that talking with someone will help with this burden," he pauses for a second to let the words sink in, "you don't have to do this all on your own, Sakura."

_"You shouldn't keep_ everything inside," Naruto's voice becomes serious, the one he used when addressing the alliance, his face straight, "you don't have to carry this burden alone."

_"I'm here if_ you need to talk," Ino smiles, patting her on the shoulder before rising to her feet.

_"Are you okay,_ Sakura?" Naruto looks at her in concern even as his arm is bleeding profusely and she is pumping her chakra in to heal it faster. He shouldn't be worried about her.

_"Stop that," her_ friend breaks her thoughts, "survivor's guilt doesn't suit you."

A laugh bubbles up in her throat, because how could anyone of this time ever understand, ever comprehend the horrors that she has seen and lived through. The horrors that she is so desperately fighting to stop – the horrors that her own leader is now preventing her from averting.

She laughs, and turns her back to exit through the door, "I'll be departing within the hour, Sandaime-sama."

A step forward and she ignores the call of her name.

Another and she is shunshining away.

She needs to keep moving, looking forward and fixing the problems of the past.

If she doesn't the world might just fall apart a second time.


	2. Possible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers!
> 
> Thank you all for your reviews!!!
> 
> I should warn you all now that updates will be erratic. I’m moving in the coming weeks and want to spend as much time with my friends as possible – social life boost sadly means a setback to my writing.
> 
> Anyway hope you like the chapter! And please review!

 

_The wrap was_ yellow in colour as all the others have become without proper storage. It wound around her ankles and wrists steadily, a tight anchor that stuck her to the earth. Those that held her chest wrapped to prevent a noticeable feature; women were targeted more than men in this reality. Tighter and tighter and tighter till the breath in her lungs stuttered and her heart beat could be felt in vibrations against the fabric – it reminded her she was alive.

Her black standard ANBU pants pulled on next, the dangling wrappings that still hung like ribbon on the ground in rivers were tied off to keep down the bottom of the cloth. A standard black top with no sleeves slipped over lose pink locks and settled snuggly to her figure. White ANBU armor was put on next, strapped over her torso and arms. More yellow fabric at her thigh, to hook her weapons pouch against as it hung around her waist, partner to her medical bag.

Her headband next, tied at the nape of her neck as it sat snuggly in her hair; shorter now than ever before. Delicately blood-pink designed porcelain rested against her thigh as it strung down from her hip. Fingerless leather gloves covered calloused, scarred hands that then slipped worn sandals on, coated in a dusting of ash to become a granulated grey scale.

Gracefully deadly strides brought her to the flap of her green tent. She grabbed her tanto as the heavy fabric pulled back and she stepped out into the light of War.

The silver sword slicked red in blood, and death, and life, felt like a feather in her hands. Cutting through air and flesh and bone all the same as she swung to kiss her enemy with the metal, trying to make it to the slight breaking of the crowds that lead to the fight between Hanzo and the three orphans. Akatsuki members rushed around, blasting off jutsu and hurtling weaponry at their opposition to the revolution.

The lack of red-clouded cloaks made it easier for her, allowed her the opportunity to differentiate between these shinobi fighting for a good cause and those that slaughtered her friends.

She gets bewildered looks from both sides, quickly lost amongst the slashing of her favorite weapon and the fall of Hanzo's shinobi. The pinket becomes swarmed by the angry comrades of those she mercilessly killed – but they are all the same; cannon fodder against her blade. Only a mere two make her pause longer than a second to help them meet their fate.

The world tilts and the ground becomes ash under her feet, the sky turns to the grey of a lifeless world.

_"Sakura!" Sasuke's voice_  called out to her as the last of the enemies she faces – clones that they met on an exposition to a dead village - fell to her sword. For a moment she can picture the landscape as lush and green, blue sky hovering with a mosaic of fluffy clouds. Trickling water, a stream of cool liquid splashing playfully against the edge of the grass bank giving way to training ground three.

She blinks and the world is gone, grey sky falling as clouds block out the sun she isn't sure even rises anymore; not since  _it_ happened.

"Sakura!"

She whips her head around, pink strands sticking thickly to her skin from sweat and blood, she spots Sasuke calling out to her. His voice is hoarse, cracking as his lungs become blocked with ash and dirt. A head of silver hair is resting against his shoulder, blood soaking into the fabric.

It won't matter. Even if she saves him they'll all die anyway. There's no hope anymore now that the impossible tore itself into their lives and made a home.

Sasuke reaches her, laying out the body of their sensei and tugging sharply on her clothes to make her kneel down. Silver hair thatno longer defies the pull of the earth is caked in blood, resting in the bed of ash that crunches with every movement.

Her last remaining teammate is looking at her as she rises to her feet with dawning comprehension. And she wonders absently if she were faster, better, stronger, would this of happened as it has.

But then the body is shifting and she is forced to leap back as a root shoots out of the chest towards her own, spinning on a sandaled heal and shoving a chakra enhanced fist into the face of a white body at her back as the Uchiha handles the advancing wooden spike.

Hanzo dodges her punch, the one that she slams into the ground and sends the area into a localized earthquake with. The one that she used to prevent Yahiko from gaining a painful wound. One not mortally striking, but enough of a nuisance to hinder movement. The man looks surprised for a moment, but laughter rings out as he regains balance and calls across the cloud of falling rock, "Tsunade-hime what are you doing here, little leaf?" The air is settling again, only the crackle of a few shifting pieces of rumble remains. "I heard you ran-"

He doesn't finish his sentence, the outline becoming clear and finally his body emerges. Looking perplexed at Sakura, as if she is a puzzle to figure out.

"You're not Tsunade," he states, and she slides smoothly into a ready position. In the past she had the advantage of surprise when taking out her opponents, and now she does not. In the past she had the backup of her seal, and now she does not – her forehead blank until she can store enough chakra away to form the diamond once more.

Facing off against the strongest shinobi of this time is a feat she never thought she would need to go through. Facing off against the man her shishou told twisting tales about with hints of a proud anger at being able to survive Hanzo's onslaught no matter she and her team were spared. But she will, for a future, for a hope, a dream.

For Naruto.

The pinket sheaths her tanto; it is of no use in this fight. She will rely on her taijutsu, her strength, her chakra control, and the poisoned senbon that are resting in her pouch. There is only a slim chance that the chemicals will work against the man, but even one symptom will be enough to give her the winning advantage.

By the time she is able to have him on his knees she is nearly out of chakra, with only enough reserves left to heal the poison coursing in her system from the hits he managed to land on her.

“He’s all yours,” she tells the three twins and gathering group of revolutionaries behind her, forcing down the rolling of her stomach and not allowing her staggering legs to give out. She’ll travel as far as she can before the day gives out to night and the stars become too lost amongst the clouds of rain to guide her.

Or, that was her plan. Until she feels a hand come to rest on her shoulder and instinct tells her to lash out but her muscles can’t follow through with the desired reaction. Something that is for the better she concludes when her green gaze meets orange hair and strangely a concerned gaze filled with both a determination and wary gratefulness.

“Yahiko,” Konan calls out, “what are you doing?”

“She helped us,” Yahiko retorts, though he never takes his eyes off of Sakura’s, “the least we can do is offer her a place to sleep till she recovers.”

A refusal is on the tip of her tongue, but it falls flat against the logical consideration of how this could benefit. It will allow her access to the injured she can hear groaning in the field sparking every medical instinct in her body. And it will allow her more time to bond with the orphans, drawing them into a possible treaty and alliance with Konohagakure as she had all but promised the Hokage as a persuasive excuse.

The nightmares come as they always do, but the timing is off, if only because of her body's need to rest and heal. However, she will take what she can get, the rest the longest she has had in more time than she cares to think on.

The new morning sun is released from the horizon in intervals, rising from its nightly death to shine only to be snuffed by the clouds that thicken the atmosphere with promised rain. She slips from her bedding, feet meeting ground in silence as she readies herself to greet another day with a well-known routine.

Stretch. Strength training. Stretch.

Clean sweat off.

Dress.

Leave for the area most populated by those who suffer injury.

A well-worn schedule that makes her bones feel as if they have clicked back into place in a large puzzle. The familiar green fabric of a tent, the rough earth, the smell of blood and loss. It feels as if she is back in the alliance camps ready to face off once more against an indomitable foe.

She has only five of the seemly endless number of patients left when Nagato finds her.

He is young, so painfully young. Not in his body alone either, but in his eyes that hold hope beyond hope that what he is doing will come to a justifiable end.

To peace.

So young and already a freedom fighter.

Her heart clenches.

"You're from the leaf," it's not a question but she nods anyway, finishing with her current patient she moves to the next, "do you know Jiraiya-sensei?"

She gives a nod, smaller this time, it isn't a lie. She knows Jiraiya from the future, though she had met the man many times the bulk of her knowledge rises from-

She cuts her train of thought off in an attempt to avoid thinking on the matter and entreating a memory to enter her mind.

"Can," the redhead hesitates, a nervous look crossing his face, "can you tell him that we're doing it... that we're following his dream?"

_Blonde hair wavered_ playfully in the gentle breeze toying the treeless landscape. The sky that is reflecting their leader's eyes looks far too happy to be encompassing a world of so much loss. Sakura looks steadily at her companion who has his head tipped back as if basking in the sunlight, but the wistfully far off look stretching his expression tells of another reality. The smile on his lips would be more fitting on the face of someone crying than one with such hopeful, bright blue orbs holding optimism enough to spare for all of them and then some.

"Naruto?" She says softly, wanting to reach out to him.

"Can you see it, Sakura-chan?" he asks her.

"See what?"

"Peace," he breathes out like a prayer, "the war ending." The smile that pulls his lips is warmer now. "It's beautiful."

"I will," she tells the redhead, and the grateful smile she gets in return makes her heart ache. "Here." She says before she can stop herself, hand already holding out a worn orange book. The edges fraying from use, the colour duller now than what it used to be. She can recite this book word for word should someone ask her to. "This belonged to my best friend," she explains as he takes it from her hand, "he fought for the same dream. It's only fitting that you own it next."

"But," Nagato looks thoughtful, "if they’re your friend then why don't you keep it?"

Sakura smiles forlornly, a wistful and long broken lift of lips, "I'm only fighting for half of the dreams he had."

"What happened to him?" Nagato asks, though she suspects he already knows.

_"Naruto!" She shouts_  desperate, running on legs collapsing with each step, "oh god, Naruto! Come on," she says, more to herself, "come on, come on, come on, Naruto! Open your eyes, damn it! Naruto!"

She opens her mouth to offer an explanation but the lifting of a flap has her eyes moving toward the entrance where Yahiko and Konan now stand looking at her and then the no-longer-injured shinobi with wide eyes.

"Wha-" Yahiko exclaims dumbly, looking around.

"You didn't have to do this," Konan translates for her friend.

_“Sakura,” Tsunade stops_ her in her tracks. The pinket spins around, still slightly reeling from the news that she will be taking the ANBU examination within the month. She is no longer weak, no longer the one holding back her team. “Do you still remember the laws?”

Her back automatically straightens at the question, “No medic ninja shall ever stop medical treatment until the lives of their party members have come to an end.” She rattles the first clause off with perfect recollection.

_The beat of_  a heart, slow enough to be considered dead before she even started, stops with one last burst of effort. Temari is screaming, kicking and twisting in her husband's grasp as she curses Sakura's name for killing Kankuro - ' _so that's what he's called'_ \- what kind of medic can she be if she can't even save one person. The body is taken away, lifted to be placed amongst the other corpses to be buried – there are so many that there is talk of simply burning the corpses as they are. Burning them all.

She feels a tinkling laugh reverberate in her ribcage; if they wish to burn them all then they must burn the world.

Her knees are stiff by the time she rises from her position, hours spent bent over in a shame at another failure, another life lost, another one of Naruto’s friends that she promised to protect  _gone_.

_“No medic ninja_ shall ever stand on the front lines,” the woman absently wonders how many times that code has been broken since the war started.

“No medic ninja shall ever die until they are the last of their platoon.”

_"We need her_  on the field!"

"She's the only one left, we can't risk it."

"Shikamaru's right, without her we won't have anyone to heal the wounded."

“She’s the leader, what will it do to moral to have her hiding away? What will it tell the enemy?”

“She isn’t  _hiding_ , she’s doing her job as a medic!”

_“Only those medic_ ninja who have mastered the Strength of a Hundred Technique of the ninja art Creation Rebirth are permitted to discard the above-mentioned laws.” The seal on her forehead feels heavier as the last of the words leave her mouth.

"I'm a medic-nin," she tells the three orphans lightly, "I can't ignore patients." She isn’t sure if they understand, but nonetheless they allow her to finish with the last few shinobi.

_"We need a medic!"_  The scream comes from outside her tent, surgery equipment not even cleaned from the last patient to fall to rest on her table. The flap to her space pushes open, wild and wet from the deluge of water dumped from the heavens, "oh, thank Kami. He needs immediate attention."

So do the twenty others dying at her feet.

By the time she leaves a few weeks have already come and gone. The weather as dreary as it has always been and Sakura watches detachedly as the heavens pour into the earth.

_The ground decimated,_  bitter and black air hanging over broken earth that covered their world. Blood seeped steadily into the ash of bodies it once inhabited, returning to its rightful place too late. The clouds hung heavy overhead, draping a screen of bursting shadows and rain onto the earth. Foot prints etched into the ash washing away as if the world was eliminating all traces of those who had been slaughtered. As if even the heavens couldn't bare the pain of remembering.

At the gates she looks back and offers a wave to those members of Akatsuki gathered to see her off, her other hand patting imperceptibly at her pouch where a treaty rests within on a scroll.

As she reenters Fire Country the pinket breathes in air that smells of life and looks to the sky the same shade of blue as her lost friend's eyes.

"I can see it," she whispers, "I can see it, Naruto."

Stepping into Konohagakure feels like she is coming home for the first time since she has come to this time. The war has ended, the streets filled with people who have life in their steps and a careless gate in their movements.

When she steps into the Hokage office to hand over the treaty and the report – one she had written out during her night of camping near the border of the two nations – it’s to a stern faced Sandaime. Surrounded quiet adequately by those she considers precious in this timeline.

“What?” She purposely tilts her head and makes her body language as innocent as possible, hoping she can get out of whatever lecture they have clearly planned.

“Why?” Obito is the first to speak, “why did you just run off like that?! Without even telling us, your _team_!”

She rolls her eyes, “It wasn’t exactly planned.”

“Don’t make excuses, Sakura-san,” Tsunade jumps in, and if Sakura is a little surprised at seeing the blonde no one needs to know. She had thanked the woman profusely for saving her life at the cost of her return to a village that reminded her so bitterly of what she no longer has, but she hadn’t thought on that simple show of thanks leading to anything more. “You were barely out of the hospital and you run off to Ame of all places? What were you thinking?!”

“I know my body’s limits,” she snaps back, shishou or no, “and I was _thinking_ that it was something I _had to do.”_

“What do you mean you ‘had to do’ it?” Rin speaks up.

“That’s not something I can explain,” the woman says, rubbing her forehead and sticking her hand into her pouch to retrieve both scrolls, which she tosses onto the Hokage’s desk. “Here, mission report and a proposal for an alliance from the new leaders of Amegakure.”

The old man looks up at her in shock, and she wants nothing more than to punch the man right then, for doubting that she would come back empty handed. For _ever_ doubting her ability to complete this part of her mission to keep her promise.

“Anything happen while I was gone?” She pointedly changes the subject, drawing attention from herself and the reason she left.

“Good or bad news first?” He inquires, and she smiles at the fact that he has the courtesy to give her a choice.

“Bad.”

Hiruzen gives a wary sigh that releases a large puff of smoke into the room, “Orochimaru has defected.”

She nods, having fully expected that.

“What’s the good news?”

“I’ve picked a successor,” he gestured towards the blonde that has yet to say a word, blue eyes that are impossibly sharp and calculating suddenly brighten at the mention of his promotion.

“Congratulations,” she offers sincerely.

“Heh,” he rubs at the back of his head in embarrassment and the pinket _does not_ think about how familiar the gesture is, “it’s been a dream of mine for a while.”

_“I’m going to_ be Hokage one day, dattebayo!”

“ _My dream is_ to surpass all the past Hokages!”

“Congratulations,” she repeats for lack of knowing what else she can say. _‘Like father like son,’_ she thinks with a bitter edge caused by loss.

And if at the Yondaime’s coronation she is desperately wishing that the mop of blonde hair belonged to another blue eyed boy than no one can blame her.

She avoids the celebrations, opting to send Yamato out with some money to spend on games and food for the night, while she stays in with a scroll and ink detailing any changes she still needs to handle. Truly, with Danzo out of the way, Ame under a more pleasant rule, Zetsu and Madara dead, Obito saved, and Tsunade now back in the village there is little she needs to change.

Dealing with Orochimaru is something she has little concern over, the man is but a thorn in her side compared to others she has faced.

Preventing the kyuubi attack will be her main focus for the time leading up to it; but at the same time as long as she can create a proper seal to transfer the fox from Kushina to Naruto without killing anyone it shall all end well.

The Uchiha massacre will be stopped with ease without Danzo present, without Zetsu manipulating the clan, and with no attack from a biju. It is something she can leave to Minato to handle, perhaps.

Gaara.

She will have to help him.

And Itachi; she’ll try to entreat the parents in some way to let her exam his illness and treat it. If they won’t let her, well, she’ll do it anyway. She only needs a proper opportunity to get close to the boy.

Something that so conveniently presents itself a few days later when she and Yamato are out shopping for fruit when they run into Obito, Itachi and the boy’s older cousin, Shisui. Itachi, to say the very least, is absolutely heart-wrenchingly adorable and all Sakura wants to do is coo over him and pinch his cheeks.

She may or may not try and receive a harsh glare in return.

Sasuke had told them everything during the war, explained the massacre and Itachi’s sacrifice. Explained his own guilt he felt at not realizing it, at killing his brother who only tried to protect him.

Which is why she isn’t surprised to see her old teammate staring with a sweet, bitter remorse at the young boy that is his older brother. A hand, shaking with something Sakura only can describe as fear, tentatively reaches out to place a soft two-finger poke onto the boy’s forehead.

The young boy’s own hand goes up to rub at the same spot with a small frown of confusion, as if he had felt the touch. Sasuke reels back, eyes wide with a hope that she can’t understand. His hand shoots out once more, this time shifting to ruffle black hair.

Itachi makes no sign he noticed the affectionate action.

When the pinket suggests a play-date between the three boys Obito all but jumps on the idea, no doubt wanting nothing more than the push the responsibility of looking after them onto someone else. He immediately offers to speak with Mikoto about the suggestion and Sakura gives a nodding smile in reply.

Sasuke shows up every time she is around Itachi after that. Never saying a word.


	3. Practical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovely readers!
> 
> Sorry for the delay in writing, but I hope this chapter can make up for that!
> 
> Did you guys know that putting goat cheese on an apple is actually really really really good… I ate that when I was writing this and thought I would mention it because you should all try!
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter, and please please please review!

 

The trees dappled the grass of the training ground with bursting spots of light creating patterns of reaching flowers peaking towards the blanket that she and Mikoto were settled on. The Uchiha matriarch’s stomach was bloated with pregnancy, lightly bulging from behind her clothes as a delicate show of fertility and motherhood.

Knowledge that the life growing in the woman’s womb would burst into the world with a raging love for his brother and onyx black eyes that were once haunted by a dark past set a struggling pain in Sakura’s chest. The life growing in the woman’s stomach would be Uchiha Sasuke, a boy with a lightening affinity and fated rival to Uzumaki Naruto. The life growing in the woman’s stomach would be Uchiha Sasuke. But he would not be _her_ Uchiha Sasuke.

He would be this time’s Uchiha Sasuke, and she has been pushing and shoving that fact away every second she has conversed with Mikoto.

Settling her gaze away from the clan matriarch Sakura studied the forms of the three practicing in the field. Itachi, now five years of age, was being ‘patiently’ guided by Shisui and Yamato – now a jounin and chunin respectively – in the art of shuriken throwing. Something which the boy’s father insisted on. Sakura had bit her lip on the demand, no matter how she wants to rage about it, because she has already pushed so much with the clan and to push any more may very well mean Yamato would lose his friends.

It had taken weeks to convince Fugaku that she could heal Itachi’s illness, and though it would take some time, the process was relatively painless and a guaranteed success. That push alone and what she had said in order to be allowed to heal the boy would be enough to get her disgraced by the clan. But, in the end, Itachi now stood healthy and fully healed after a year of weekly treatment sessions.

The small boy has taken to calling her Nee-san now, much like Yamato, and announced with a stubborn glint in his eyes that he would be a medic-nin _‘just like Sakura-nee-san_ ’.

Something that her Sasuke had smiled at when the words left the younger boy’s lips.

Sakura herself had laughed good-naturedly along with the proclamation, teasingly saying she would put in a good word for the boy at the hospital. The way his face lit up at that had made her feel lighter for the entire day – she had even discussed Tsunade herself training the young Uchiha.

She felt it would be best for her old shishou to take on the clan heir; best because it would give the clan elders reason to agree – being trained by one the sannin is something revered by all – and may lead to the slug princess coming out of the slump she is in. It would give her more people to consider family.

The Senju had given an annoyed, put-upon look but Sakura recognized the consideration in the woman’s eyes when she finished explaining her request and reasoning.

Itachi would have a wonderful teacher; he had even already convinced Sakura to help him with chakra control exercises when he joined the academy next year. Her heart squeezes at that thought; the boy, the one she has known since he was but a small little thing is to be a shinobi, all grown up and off fighting in battles his pacifist heart wants no part of. Because even if he should be a medic the clan would demand one that can fight on the frontlines.

Already five and with a younger brother on the way that he will love above all else.

The pinket is wildly thrown from her musing thoughts when a franticly hyperactive and all-too-easily-excited Uzumaki redhead bursts into the clearing with flailing limbs and a motor-mouth running a mile a minute.

Sakura isn’t sure the woman has even taken a breath between what she can only assume are meant to be coherent sentences. But her, Mikoto, and Kushina have been friends for long enough that they know how to deal with one another. Which means that her and the Uchiha wait out the storm of jumbled words, and by the time the redhead has stopped to catch her breath the three little ducklings out practicing have gathered to watch the spectacle as well.

Seeming to finally realize that her two friends hadn’t understood a word of what she had just said the wide-eyed Uzumaki beams with a smile that pulls at the strings in Sakura’s heart and all but yells, “I’m pregnant!”

“Oh, Kushina that’s amazing!” Mikoto is squealing, rising as fast as she can to give the redhead a bone-crushing hug. “How far along are you?”

_“We need to_ abort it,” the pinket’s second in command medic tells her softly as the two exit the tent to discuss the implications of Tenten having a child during wartime. “It won’t survive, and this will put Tenten out of commission for too long.”

She knows the medic is right, knows it, knew it the moment she saw the test results.

It doesn’t make breaking the news to an expecting mother any easier. Neither does it stifle the sobbing cries that her friend and comrade screams to the sky.

Sakura blinks into the present realizing she has missed the answer but it matters little, as she knows the child will be born in October.

“I hope they have your hair,” Mikoto is babbling, her face full of excitement.

“I know,” Kushina nods along enthusiastically, “Minato’s is so unruly.”

Knows that the tenth day of that month will bring a blonde-haired, blue-eyed crying child into the world. A child that will grow into a boy filled with loneliness, and hopeful optimistic smiles that someday, someone will be his friend. A boy that will grow to be a teenager titled prophecy’s hope and fight a war that everyone thinks they can win. A teenager that will become a man still dragged on by the dogs of war into an endless cycle of pain. A man that will die and whose death the world will fall apart following.

A child that Sakura will give her life to change the fate of.

“Have you told Minato?” Mikoto is asking, “Have you thought of any names?”

A child named Uzumaki Naruto.

Sakura stumbles away from the training field with the mumbled excuse that she has some chores to do and with a parting congratulations to Kushina.

The pressure in her chest won’t stop increasing, and she needs to gather her thoughts and try to push it back down. Silence the screaming in her mind that tells her she really doesn’t belong to this time. She knew her friends would be born again, Mikoto a glaring example, but it has not hit her so harshly as the knowledge that Naruto is to be born within months. A Naruto that won’t know her. A Naruto that will have a father and a mother if she has anything to say about it.

A Naruto that won’t be _her friend._

That will never really by hers, and with that bursting damn of thought the rest she has managed to suppress come crashing past her walls. Ino won’t be hers either. Shikamaru won’t play shogi with her. Choji won’t try all her attempts at cooking. Tenten will only know her in passing, Neji won’t spar with her, Lee won’t help her train in taijutsu.

She has lost them.

Lost them once and will see them again but they won’t be _hers_.

They will be this time’s Sakura, this reality’s Haruno Sakura. If the pink-haired girl is even born.

_“S-Sakura, we don’t_ know wh-what will happen if you do t-this,” Hinata tries telling her, convincing her to not pursue the hair-brained plan she spewed out moments before. “You m-might no-not even go back in time, you might end up in a d-dif-different reality instead and w-what good would that d-do.”

“What good would continuing to fight like we have do?” She snaps back with a harsh bite, deflating as she sees her friend flinch back with a hurt look. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“N-n-no, I get it. We all need s-s-something to give us h-hope.”

“But we still don’t know if it’s possible,” Shikamaru speaks up, the others present at the meeting give agreeing nods. “I never even heard of a jutsu that does something like this.”

“A seal.” Kakashi states, grey eye thoughtful, “It might be possible if we can create the proper seal. The fourth’s hiraishin was a space-time seal, and if we follow the basic concepts we might get somewhere.”

“We’re not seal masters,” Sasuke points out the obvious.

“I worked with…” she trails off, heart thumping in her chest as her mouth tries to form his name. She shakes her head, starting again, “I may not be a master, but I can create seals. I just need the research.”

“And where are we going to get the scrolls for that?” Sasuke shoots back, every line in his body speaking of irritation.

“We could scavenge them from the ruins of villages,” Shikamaru leans forward, a pensive look on his scarred face.

“And if she doesn’t go back far enough?” The Uchiha questions harshly.

“Then we end up back here and someone will try again,” Sakura grounds through clenched teeth.

“How far back do we need to send her?” Choji calls out.

Shikamaru closes his eyes and lets a breath out from his mouth, one hand going to fiddle with an old, battered, lighter. “Far enough to stop Madara from getting ahold of Obito.”

“Before the Kannabi bridge mission, then.” Kakashi hums, his posture relaxed, though his slate-grey eye tells a different story.

“So she’ll need to keep her body,” Shikamaru taps the lighter softly against the wooden table they surround, the subtle pinging of metal rings loudly in the tent.

“B-but wouldn’t that ca-cause a p-p-paradox?”

“The universe has ways of righting itself,” Kakashi supplies simply.

She truly doesn’t belong to this time. A fact that had buzzed at the back of her mind ever since she has executed the technique. Only now is her mind fully coming to realize it.

And it  _hurts._

She huddles further into the nook in a rotting tree that she had jammed into after making her escape. Wrapping her chakra around her coils and masking it as to not be found – no need to allow anyone to see her in such a weakened state, in such a vulnerable moment.

By the time her mind has calmed enough that her thoughts can move past the loss of her friends the true situation sets in.

Naruto is being born.

Naruto is being born on October tenth.

The same day as the ninetail’s attack on the village in her timeline, the same day the fourth gave his life sealing the fox into his newborn son. Something she needs to prevent at all costs, if she can prevent this then the Uchiha will not be held in suspicion for the attack and be ostracized further from the village and plan their coup d'etat.

But Sakura has little to no idea if the seal on Kushina broke on its own or if it was forced open by Obito in its weakened state after the birth. She’s practically going in blind.

With that lack of knowledge comes the possibility that the fox won’t _need_ to be sealed in the young Naruto should the later be the truth. And though Naruto had faced many horrors during his childhood years due to the fox he also was capable of befriending the fierce beast and convincing a being formed from hatred itself to care about the person he was sealed in.

They had been partners during her time. Friends. Brothers. Family.

And Sakura is not about to take away part of her boy’s family. Even if the Naruto now isn’t _her_ Naruto, the blue-eyed man would still be thankful to her for giving him a member of his family back.

The bark digs into her upper arms and Sakura shifts to disconnect the wood from her skin. She holds back a sigh, she’ll need to discuss her plans with Minato. She had studied Naruto’s seal enough that replicating something similar with less deadly effects on the activator won’t be impossible per-say, but it was the release of the ninetails that put so much suspicion on the Uchiha and led to their treason. So now it comes to not only creating a strong enough seal but one that will transfer the fox spirit from one host to the next without killing anyone in the process and without exposing the village to the biju.

“If you’re going to laze around at least pick somewhere with clouds,” Shikamaru’s voice flutters against her ear from the left.

She snorts, “I’m thinking.”

“You’re in a tree.”

“ _Thinking._ ”

“Looks like you’re hiding to me,” the pineapple-haired Nara shrugs his slumped shoulders.

“Naruto’s going to be born soon,” she says, changing the topic of conversation.

Shikamaru studies her for a moment, a small frown tugging at the corner of his mouth, “We knew this would happen.”

“I know, but…” she trails off, frustration welling inside her.

“But it doesn’t make it any easier,” the Nara finishes for her, blowing out a puff of air and looking towards the interlacing branches of trees that hung about their heads. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t.”

“I’m going to seal the ninetails into Naruto,” she speaks up after a moment of silence.

“Troublesome woman, I thought Sasuke and Ino already got through to you,” he looks at her sharply, “we didn’t send you back so you could throw your life away.”

“I’m not throwing my life away,” she snaps back, green eyes blazing. “I’m making a two part transfer seal.”

He eyes her through narrowed lids, “You’re good but you’re not that good, Sakura. A time travel seal is different than one needed to contain a biju.”

“I know! That’s why I’m planning to talk with Minato about it!” She snaps, pulling herself out of the tree and storming away from the infuriating Nara. It doesn’t hit her that the pain in her chest has lessened until she’s already halfway to her apartment.

Stupid Naras.

“She’ll survive,” Sakura tells the worried looking blonde before her. The explanations had gone smoother than she expected, the Yondaime not interrupting her the entire time, patiently letting her tell him why she thought it would be for the best – the benefits, the pitfalls, everything.

“But my baby-“

“Has family now to help him with the burden,” she interrupts. “And we don’t know if the seal will break after the birth or not with how weak it will be. Anything could happen, it’s best to be prepared.”

“Let me think about it, and talk with Kushina,” he tells her, eyes looking distant as he gazes out at the village from the window. She gives a nod that he doesn’t see, bows respectfully and takes her leave – whether the man agrees or not she will need to be prepared for the worst. So she head to the library to start her research.

It takes five days for Minato to agree, a pained but determined look on both soon-to-be-parents’ faces – but underneath that is the undying belief that their child will be able to handle whatever is to come.

They finish a mere week before the blonde is due to enter the world.

The completed seal is a master piece, one that would make Naruto proud enough to smile that blinding grin that stretches over teeth and is so wide it crinkles his eyes into slits. Ink painted delicate lines across the scroll, dancing to a symphony only to be heard when they activate it for the first time. Sakura is more than excited to listen to its song, as she is tasked with keeping Kushina stable, while it is Minato who they plan to have join the seal in a chakra defined choreography.

As they push back to stretch out their sore muscles the three of them give tired but victorious smiles, a breathy laugh of relief escaping each of their lungs as the weight of what they have just created rests on their shoulders. Now the village no longer has to actually _see_ Kurama in order to seal the biju into Naruto; it is no longer truly a re-sealing but merely a transfer from one host to the next. No screaming civilians, no mass destruction. No crying children, orphaned and too young to understand why.

_The child in_ her arms wrapped small hands into her pink hair, marveling through the tears at how a colour could exist so naturally. The stubs of fingers pulling at knots and caked in bloody-dirt, tugging at the obstacles in their way as they carded through the locks, causing a dull sting to ring out in her scalp with each movement. But the child was safe, away from the rampaging three tails that attacked without warning, without ability to stop while its mind was gripped under Obito’s genjutsu.

She hugged the small body closure as she leapt from the crumpling earth and towards her gathering team in the trees. More civilians were with them and Sakura knew they couldn’t take them back to the camp but looking at their haggard forms left a bitter feeling in her chest. These people had done nothing to deserve such an invasion of force; not a single shinobi lived in the small farming town and yet the enemy attacked relentless and now only a handful of them remain.

And if all else fails, then she has the original seal completed in a scroll kept securely in the design on her wrist.

This world isn’t truly hers anymore as it stands, and if her life is taken by the Shinigami then nothing will be missed; her precious people will still have each other and the future will have the greatest shot at peace that she has ever seen.

Or so she tries to convince herself.

It comes unexpectedly, even if she knew logically that he had to be alive in this time as Naruto is so close to being born, but she had thought little on actually _seeing_ one of her many great failures. And to see him so casually, so openly in a largely public domain, where peace slithers the ground in wisps of chattered prices and laughing children. Where she, herself, is holding up a watermelon to inspection with Yamato settled impatiently at home for awaited food. It all is so very strange.

It had been so early in the war, only a few months after Konohagakure’s destruction, and yet shinobi had been dropping like flies around them – they had set out on a supply run again, a small group of them, to gather food, weapons, ink, paper. A simple mission that cut through mostly farm lands owned by civilians that shrunk away from the fields of destroyed earth as the shinobi raged their war.

The failure burns bright in her chest now, looking at such a young and _alive_ face that, even in its youth, is achingly familiar.

Her failure.

Her fault.

Her weakness.

Her incompetence.

_"Naruto," she breathed_  out gently, rising from her knees now caked in blood and earth. She could hardly feel her chakra and knew that in any moment she would collapse, "I'm sorry… there's nothing more I can do."

The guilt is there, welling and biting at her stomach, twisting its greedy vines around her heart and poking at the clench of her throat. She had done everything, but everything was not enough, she wasn't there fast enough, she wasn't skilled enough, strong enough. Her everything was not enough and the guilt burns, hurts but is so common now as she sees the ghosts of her friends, as she sees people walking the streets that she couldn't save. And she knows it will only become worse as those she fought alongside, as those who were comrades against an unwinnable war, are born again and rise up to the same heights that made them legends even as they lost. Heights that made them revered stories told to raise moral around camp fires.

Something Sakura never understood – the telling of those stories. Because if those people that were legends, if those shinobi so strong as to be esteemed by the remaining, are fallen then what did that mean for them?

What would fate decree was their destiny?

_The wound was_  astounding, not in the sense of application but in how the victim still sucked in breathes of air enough for her to reach them before their eyes closed.

Neji laid out on the ground – a hysteric Hinata pumping chakra into his system to desperately keep the last of her family alive – a massive pike of wood logged through his chest. Naruto hovered a foot away moving the crying woman from her position to make room for Sakura as she skid to a halt next to her injured comrade. She scanned the body with chakra and the echo of information she received was horrid.

"Why?" Naruto whispered out, before he lurched forward and yelled. "Why are you willing to throw your life away for me?!"

The Hyuuga's eyes were locked onto the sky above, soft and at peace, his lips lifted into a smile – bloody, but all of them were as such nowadays.

"Because…" Neji's voice came out distant but content, as if he believed in everything he was about to say, "they called me a genius."

Naruto froze, his orbs wide and lost with a turmoil that she had never seen before raging in their blue depths. He froze. Before whirling in a tornado of orange and yellow to face Sakura, "Save him."

It was a command, a plead, a wish, a desperate hope.

She pumps chakra into the Hyuuga long after his heart has stopped and there isn't enough blood in his body to sustain life.

_"Sakura," the man_  said her name again, this time moving around to stand next to her, "you need to stop."

"Why should I!" She snapped back.

"Sakura," and would he  _stop_ saying her name in that stupidly soft tone, "she's gone, there's-"

"She's not dead!" Her eyes blazed as she said the words, looking up sharply to pierce her sensei with a glare, "if you're not going to help, then leave!"

There was a sharp pressure at the back of her neck, and then blackness was taking over her vision – taking away her best friend. The same darkness greeted her as her green orbs spread tired lids open to take in the dying world around her. The camp outside was quiet, not silent, but there was a stillness to the vibrations of sound in the air that told her the breaking of dawn would come soon. A fury of hot, red bursting flames breaking out against the bitter blackness of the night sky holding not even stars as the fates left them to their death.

She lifted a sluggish limb and hauled her body to a seated position, taking in the tent that wasn't hers, taking in the mop of silver hair brushing the edges of a tatami mat spread out next to her.

The pinket wants to rage, to burst out with fists and chakra enhanced strength that some say surpassed Tsunade's years ago.

She doesn't.

Because all that bubbles in her chest is a strange, curling numbness locking her emotions into boxes to never be opened. A strange curling blankness that she welcomes with enough grace to leave her slumbering sensei to rest, returning in a haze to the medical tent that saw the last intake of breathe from her best friend's lungs.

Naruto and Sasuke are there when she opens the flaps.

Ino is not.

"Sakura," Sasuke speaks first, moving to stand on her right side, "Kakashi told us what happened." He doesn't say that he is sorry for her loss, for the life that left this world. Because the sentiment wouldn’t be practical, would be a whisper in the wind that crushes the lands as it stretches its wings outward from the raging storm.

"Sakura-chan," and Naruto is on her left as his voice comes out softly, "this isn't you fault, you did everything you could."

The tears come hot and fast, falling in streams as they burn her skin, searing her weakness onto the flesh of her face for all to see. Because of course the blonde, her closest friend, would say such a thing. Of course he would see fit to forgive her when she is nothing more than a murderer incapable of preserving even a single life.

_"Naruto," she breathed_  out gently, rising from her knees now caked in blood and earth. She could hardly feel her chakra and knew that in any moment she would collapse, "I'm sorry… there's nothing more I can do."

He looked at her with infuriatingly blue orbs, with eyes that did not blame even as she prepared her mind for the onslaught of accusations. With lips that opened and a voice that spoke nothing of her horrible sin of incapability.

It is later, when they are removing the clothes from the corpse that she notices its absence. The clothes are repurposed, cleaned and mended or torn up and resewn into a tent. They take the headbands, not to give them to the deceased’s family – most do not have anyone left to offer such comforts to – but to melt down the metal and make more weapons to use in their unending war. It is with that final act before burial that she takes stock of Neji’s freedom.

His seal has disappeared.


	4. Plausible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers!
> 
> I’m so sorry for the delay in updating, I got caught up in two other stories and college stuff. But I’m back and this is the final chapter!
> 
> I wanna thank all of you for your support, without it this wouldn’t have happened…
> 
> Anyway, onto the story! Hope you enjoy!

 

He comes into the world amongst screams of pain, panting breathes of air gasped in the lungs of a mother fighting the power of a beast and the dangerously shifting strokes of a seal until the perfect moment.

He comes into the world with a shock of blonde hair, wet with the blood and protective mucus of a womb.

He comes into the world into her awaiting arms, brighter than the sun and spilling out a bubbling cry of _life_.

Naruto.

For but a moment, the hairs-width of second, Sakura feels peace.

And then the world explodes into hot rolling waves of corrosive chakra pulling, thrashing, ripping from the seal on Kushina’s stomach. And Sakura has to place the small child – her best friend, her leader, her brother, but _not_ – on the second part of their seal inked in blood.

_A week. It_ took her a week to collect enough blood to paint the seal, and now she needs to be ruthlessly meticulous to prevent any mistakes. One small, little detail off, the slightest change in thickness of the layer from one part to the next could result in failure.

They can’t afford to fail.

The seal _needs_ to work. They’ve already lost so many. Too many.

It’s the only way.

She turns then, because she trust Minato and the Sandaime to take care of the sealing. It is her and Biwako’s job to care for Kushina.

Pumping green chakra into spasming coils to calm them Sakura locks eyes with the yellow flash, a silent communication and then the relief at knowing they are succeeding enters her body. Jiraiya and Tsunade are in the village, holding the boarder walls, pumping chakra into the seals that they lined the perimeter with to protect the civilians and shinobi inside. The toad watching over the process pops as the last of the red chakra disappears into the small form of Naruto, no doubt they are off to inform the two sannin that their efforts are no longer needed.

It’s a weight off her shoulders, a rising fit of happiness lasting all of a second. But it’s _there_. All because of him.

One of her boys.

She flees.

The second she is sure that Kushina will make a full recovery and that the blonde’s vitals are stable. She throws a mission scroll at the Yondaime and runs to Suna on legs buckling with each step under the weight of her pain.

She flees.

Because it _hurts_.

Because Gaara needs her too, the small child having lost a mother, having a seal that mutilates his mind and ability to sleep.

Because it _burns._

Because the Kazekage’s ignorance will be taken out on his youngest son.

Because she is _too weak_.

Because the tears won’t stop, and the sight of wide blue eyes the exact shade as the sky they all floated the clouded dreams in is too much for her broken mind to handle.

The sands and heat are a welcome relief to the humidity, and she can pretend the wet tracks left on her cheeks are from sweat and not the tingling in her green orbs. In time, she knows, with hindsight and more stable emotions she will come to regret this. Regret leaving Yamato, Itachi, Obito, Kakashi, Rin, Shisui. Regret not watching Naruto grow up, not witnessing Sasuke’s first steps or Ino marvel at seeing flowers for the first time.

In time.

But now she can hold her breath, step back from her home and help another of her precious people that she lost in the torments of a war she never wanted to fight. That no one ever wanted to fight.

War.

What a laughable term.

War.

It implies so heavily that both sides have an equal chance of winning.

No.

It was no war.

It was a slaughter.

One no one wanted to be a part of, one she lost so many in. One that saw Gaara become one with the sands, the winds, the list of dead. Gaara; the child that she will now protect from his own family.

And if some of her reasons for this are more selfish then others?

Well.

No one needs to know.

Not even the redhead weaving through the sands beside her, nor the blonde man chatting away enthusiastically and gaining small smiles from his fellow jinchuriki.

She looked into the cloudlees sky and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the relentless sun.

_The sun scorched_ their skin and stole every drop of moisture that was left in their bodies. The retrieval team should be there within the hour, the team coming with fresh supplies of water. Because she is only one medic with only two pouches of water and three patients that are all critically wounded. Her own broken leg, dislocated shoulder and torn open stomach having been healed with the release of her seal.

The war is young yet, barely into the first year, and they have hope still that they can _win_ this.

Her recently dawned ANBU gear flutters as the winds of Suna pick up and whip harshly grating sand into her exposed skin. She used what bandages and clothes she had to clean the wounds of her patients – _her team, her subordinates, those she failed to protect_ – leaving herself exposed to the elements.

Kakashi comes, him and his own team of ANBU – the hound reinstated during the third month of their war.

By the time they reach Konoha her right hand, her closest teammate – the one she turns to in a fight, the one that is always by her side – Rabbit, has succumbed to his wounds.

_“Scorpion-taichou_ _was it_?” Rabbit speaks up from where he stands in the line of new recruits.

“Yes,” she turns her emerald orbs onto the new blood.

“I didn’t think ANBU were allowed to have _pink_ hair,” he snickers.

She tilts her head to the side because raising and eyebrow wouldn’t be seen behind her mask. Naruto and her have been working on a seal that fixes this, but thus far the colour of her hair has not hindered her missions in the least.

When she turns her head back to looking through the list the newbie snorts, “What? Nothing to say?”

Really, what ever happened to _respecting_ your elders? The pinket holds back a sigh, truly she’ll never know.

“Figures. You should just run home pinky, ANBU isn’t for the weak.” Rabbit sneers.

The ground around her feet cracks, the tendrils reaching out and towards the group of recruits.

The gates of Suna are as imposing as ever, surrounded by the mountainous ridges of a valley that Sakura distinctly remembers some Suna elders telling young children were the results of the first Kage. A folk tale passed down to help ingrain support from the coming generations – to make them believe in Suna’s unwavering strength. And with a Kage that could command the sands themselves why wouldn’t they believe?

The guards are vigilant, scrambling to position the second they see her pink dot of hair on the horizon. She snorts, but she supposes it is to be expected, the third war was not _that_ long ago and tensions are still running higher than she would like.

She knows convincing the Kazekage will be the hardest part. But if the man even has the slightest fatherly instinct he will jump on the opportunity to save his child from a life of pain and loneliness.

But, then again, hadn’t Gaara mentioned his father intending him to be nothing more than a weapon? Anger bubbles, hot and fast, at that thought. Naruto thought highly of Gaara – all of them had – and she will be damned if she can’t save him from such a horrific fate by the hands of his own parent.

They don’t look as similar as she thought that they would; the facial structure slightly off, the red hair not the exact same shade, the eyes not even close. But the steady stare, impartial and hiding all emotion, that, that is at least the same.

“Kazekage-sama,” she says simply with a small bow – not nearly as deep as would be rightfully respectful, but she hasn’t properly submitted to authority since Naruto. “It’s an honor, my name is Hatsu Sakura.”

“What is your business in Sunagakure?” Right to the point, no doubt he wishes to rid himself of her presence as soon as possible.

“I came to offer my services in the sealing arts,” she explains, if he doesn’t want to beat around then bush then she won’t either. “It has come to my attention that the design you used to seal the Ichibi in your son is weak.”

Gold dust rises up in a rush around the room, threatening even as a member of their ANBU places a kunai to her neck.

She doesn’t even bat an eye.

“How did you learn of this?” – _‘How does Konoha know? Who are your spies?’_

“I have my ways.” – _‘Konoha doesn’t. Fuck you.’_

“And what business is it of yours how our jinchuriki is doing?” – _‘What makes you think we need your help?’_

“I’m a seal master,” _liar,_ she bats that whisper away – she might as well be a master, “I know the dangers of having a faulty seal. Your son will suffer for this.”

“Oh?”

“I’m a medic-nin as well,” she reveals, knowing that if she plays the next sentences right then she will earn the chance to help the boy. “And sleep deprivation as well as severe mental trauma are only two of the many outcomes.”

He stares at her, eyes searching, gold dust still at the ready – ANBU still at her neck.

“How long will it take?”

“Three hours at most,” she says after a moment of thought, “and I will need to stay for a while to ensure the seal is functioning properly.”

“I thought you were confident in your skills.” He shoots back, accusations lining his voice like needles.

“I am,” she glares, “but sealing is a delicate art and even the best can be broken.”

He looks to the shinobi at her throat, giving a small nod the feel a cold metal leaves her, “Lizard, find her a room,” the ANBU disappears in a poof, he turns darks eyes back on her. “Follow Lizard when he returns. Tomorrow I will send someone to get you so you may fix the seal in a secure location.” His eyes harden then, the might of a Kage filling the room, “I will kill you if you fail.”

She stares him back in the eyes, her gaze never faltering, “I understand.”

Gaara is a happy baby despite everything. He has trouble sleeping and is small for his age but his teal eyes are open wide with innocent curiosity for the world. No mask to hide emotions, no bloodlust or fear, no wild desperation to make sure his home stays safe, no grueling stress from the life of a Kage. Only a simple childish wonder.

By the time Gaara can walk Sakura has dismissed leaving so many times that the Kazekage hired her as an official nanny. Leaving Gaara’s Uncle to be called away on missions as much as need be. Yashamaru is a kind man, gentle when around his nephew and loving.

When Sakura had first fixed the seal and helped take care of the fussing baby the man had thanked her profusely, eyes softening every time he looked at the redhead slumbering in his crib.

The day is warm like every other in the harsh desert landscape, and Sakura had Gaara bouncing happily on her hip as she walks to a nearby park. She had just sent out her monthly scroll to the Hokage filled with letters to all her family and friends back in Konoha. On some level she knows that it isn’t enough, that leaving on such short notice is rude and uncaring for their feelings.

But she couldn’t handle watching as the bubbling blonde sunshine grows.

“’Kura,” the two year old calls her name, it wasn’t his first word, but close and every time the little redhead says it, it makes her heart swell with warmth.

“Yes, my little raccoon?”

“’Kura, dango,” he says pointing at one of the stands they are passing, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

She gives a soft smile, but shakes her head, “After lunch, alright?”

The boy pouts.

When they arrive at the park, dango nearly finished – really, he is unfairly cute and knows all her weaknesses – the area is nearly empty. Only a few kids and parents mill around and as they glance over at the duo entering the adults start to usher their children away. Sakura frowns – even with the seal fixed the people of Suna fear Gaara for his status as a jinchuriki. And despite her wishes and advice the Kazekage had still sought to isolate his son.

“I forget, sometimes, that this is what it used to be like,” _her_ Gaara says from besides her, eyes following the paths of the people as they leave, his eyes distant as if remembering days spent trying to make friends and being rejected at every turn.

“’Kura?” She looks down at the boy, now walking alongside her, “Why doesn’t anyone want to play with me?”

Her insides clench at the lost look on a face so young, _‘Because people are stupid,’_ she wants to say. “Sometimes,” she starts instead, kneeling in front of the boy, “sometimes people fear what they don’t understand.”

“Are you scared of me, ‘Kura?”

She pulls the boy into a tight hug, “No, my little raccoon, I’m not scared of you.” When she feels the boy gives a small nod into her shoulder, seeming to understand, she pulls back and grabs hold of his small hand, “Come on, why don’t we go play on the swings?”

“Will you push me?”

“Of course!”

“And ruffy-ruffy-kun too?” The boy asks holding up his teddy bear.

“And ruffy-ruffy-kun too.”

She returns to Konohagakure a year before the Uchiha massacre is supposed to happen; she can never be too careful after all. And with Gaara now at seven with an Uncle that cares dearly for him and a father that won’t send assassins Sakura feels it is time for her to return.

She hasn’t heard anything from Minato about trouble with the Uchiha, but she wouldn’t put it past the blonde to not inform her.

Leaving Gaara is harder than she thought it would be, the tears in the little boy’s eyes making her want to do nothing more than stay.

The party at the gates to see her off is surprisingly large; the Kazekage and his guard, Yashamura, Temari and Kankuro, and a few shinobi that she had gotten acquainted with over the years. And, of course, her little raccoon.

“You’ll come back, right ‘Kura-nee-chan?”

“As often as I can,” she tells him truthfully. Because she wants to, doesn’t think she could handle not seeing the boy again. After seven years of spending her every day with the boy it feels like a part of herself is being torn out as she leaves.

But she has to. Has to ensure that the Uchiha massacre doesn’t come to pass, that Sasuke doesn’t grow up an orphan, that her precious people are still alive – not matter how mad they will be in the wake of her disappearing unannounced.

As she walks through the gates she is met with silence, not a single person to welcome her back. Not wholly unexpected – she has little doubt they are furious with her, and it will take time to heal this wound. So she walks slowly to the Hokage tower, taking the long was around that ensures she passes the Uchiha compound. What she sees makes the breath in her chest catch.

The Uchiha are slowly being integrated back into the rest of the village, a district instead of compound slowly turning into no district at all.

It is a wonderful sight.

Climbing into Minato’s office through the window she greets the Yondaime with a half-hearted wave.

“I see the village is still standing,” she offers when a silence stretches between them, “and the Uchiha are finally being integrated.”

“Hatsu Sakura,” the blonde says calmly; too calmly. The same calm that Naruto let seep into his voice when handing out a suicide mission. And then the world is exploding around her. Colourful papers flutter to the floor and balloons appear along the ceiling, a banner falls to reveal a sloppily written _‘Welcome Home!’._

Obito, Kakashi, Rin, Itachi, Yamato, Shisui all come piling out of the shadows tackling her to the ground in a messy dogpile. Or, Shisui, Obito and Rin do – the others stand back because their dignity won’t let them participate in such a childish act. She pulls them into hugs individually, and if Yamato holds on a little longer than the rest – well no one will say a thing.

Mikoto’s next, her and Kushina walk through the door with their sons in tow. The Uchiha matriarch gives his a crushing hug.

Kushina gives her a painful right hook before removing any air in her lungs with how hard she gripped the pinket.

Being introduced to Naruto and Sasuke is painful, the very same overwhelming hurt that she had ran from for seven years crashes down onto her with blinding force. But she welcomes their presence nonetheless.

And even as three years rush by in a streak of missions and training she can’t bring herself to fully separate the two children from her fierce shinobi teammates and friends.

She feels like she is dying on the inside, falling apart. Like someone just took a kunai to her heart and slowly sliced it open. She can’t breathe, can barely see above her rising panic. The sounds are muffled around her with the raging roar bellowing in her ears.

Minato wants her to be Naruto, Sai and Sasuke’s sensei.

Minato wants _her_ to be _Naruto, Sai_ and _Sasuke’s_ sensei.

She runs before Minato can fully explain, because she needs to get out, to leave for a while and gather her thoughts. She passes the gates at break neck speeds and enters the forest surrounding the area. She needs to destroy _something_.

Does Minato not know what he has asked of her? Does he not understand? Kakashi is different, Yamato she can handle, even the Sandaime and Tsunade. But these. These are _her boys._ Sai and Naruto and Sasuke, her teammates, her friends, her family, her comrades, _her boys_.

So she runs. She runs and runs and runs. She doesn’t stop, not when the tears blur her vision, not when her heart feels like it’s going to burst. Not until her senses scream to dodge and the smell of snake fills the air.

The wind jutsu that attacks her pulls back memories of the chunin exams, it twists and tears away trees and earth alike. Slamming across the landscape and destroying everything in its path.

But she is _stronger_ now, has been for years. A mere sannin is nothing compared to those horrors she has faced. Orochimaru but a pest when pinned against Madara and Zetsu.

One on one, without distractions, she can handle him easily. Will _delight_ in doing so – because right now, a good fight is exactly what she needs.

“Sakura!” The call from Obito and Kakashi at once startles her, because _since when were they following_. Had she truly been so lost in her own mind that she missed a tail?

Pathetic.

Pulling herself out from around the tree she locks eyes with the snake sannin, sneering as he smirks down at her. Having two of her teammates her changes things. Knowing them she won’t be able to convince them to leave and head for Konoha, even if she lies and says it’s for backup.

Sakura grits her teeth.

This just means she’ll need to fight harder. Faster. Better.

The snake summons curl around her feet holding her in place, hundreds of them slither across the forest floor in a pit of venom – her teammates are already in the trees; she had thrown them there the second she saw the hand signs the sannin was forming. Any poison the snakes manage to inject into her blood will be flushed out by her chakra, and if it comes down to it she will release her seal to fix any damages.

“Looks like this is the end, little kunoichi,” Orochimaru hisses out in pleasure, eyes alight in the victory he is so assured is his.

“Maybe for you,” she grinds out, pulling chakra into her fist, “but not for me!” The earth cracks under the force of her blow, smoke billowing outward as summons poof out of existence. The crater she leaves behind would put Tsunade to shame.

Kakashi and Obito are admitted to the hospital for lacerations.

The pinket ensured that they endured no further injury than that.

Orochimaru’s body is given to the two remaining sannin to do with what they wish.

A month goes by, and in that time she has managed to take a mission to Suna to visit her, now ten year old, raccoon. It wasn’t a long trip, only a few days, and mostly spent in a stuffy room going over new trade agreements – but for those few precious hours she spend having a picnic with Gaara the piles of sweat drenched clothes were more than worth it.

The academy graduates today, and Minato has been giving her pointed but concerned looks, because for all that she has been back for three years she has tried her hardest to avoid interacting with the people she once grew up with. Naruto and Sasuke, due to her connections with their families, are the only two she has met, however, only on occasion. But they don’t know her, not the way they used to.

And now, here she stands outside the very same room she once learned the basics in. Closing her eyes she pulls in a deep breath and takes a step forward.

She has a promise to keep after all.

_"Naruto!" She shouts_  desperate, running on legs collapsing with each step, "oh god, Naruto! Come on," she says, more to herself, "come on, come on, come on, Naruto! Open your eyes, damn it! Naruto!"

"Sakura-cha-" a cough interrupts the endearment from being finished, a hand gripping hers stops the frenzied movements in her limbs. She looks into calm eyes - _how can he be so calm at a time like this?!_ The blonde's other hand moves and drags, slowly, an orange book from his pocket shoving it into her own grip weakly. "Protect them. Follow peace and protect them."

"What are you talking about, you baka?! You'll protect them yourself!"

"Sakura," her name is whispered out.

“Shut up, conserve your energy! You aren’t going to die!”

“Sakura, please promise me."

She chokes on her tears, tongue fumbling, "I promise... I promise."

"Good," he smiles, another choke has Sakura drawing closure to hear the words that leave his mouth.

She feels a hand come to rest on her shoulder and she looks back to see a solemn Kakashi looking down at her with a questioning gaze.

"He..." she stares unseeing into the distance as a drop of rain hits her cheek and mixes with her tears, "he made me the leader," it comes out far away as if she herself isn't even the one who spoke the words. _Orange fabric covered_  in blood gripped limply in her hands is the only lifeline she has in that moment. Blue eyes unseeing. Muscled limbs unmoving. Too-big heart not beating. "He told me to protect everyone."


End file.
